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THE 


SHEPHERD'S FAMILY. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 

Ka-rl gustav'nieritz. 


BY 


MARY E. IRELAND. 



3 r&f /-X 


Sitltmotti, la.: 

Presbyterian Committee of Publication. 
1894. 




Copyrighted 

BY 

J A S. K. H A Z E N, Secretary of Publication . 

1894. 


Printed by 

Whittet & Shepperson, 
Richmond, Va. 



9 


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* 




THE 


SHEPHERD’S FAMILY. 










# 










CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

In the Meadow, .... 


Page. 

7 

CHAPTER II. 

The Baron, the Shepherd and the Pastor, . 

17 

CHAPTER HI. 

The Lock-up, .... 


30 

CHAPTER IV. 
Christmas at the Chapel, 


42 

CHAPTER V. 

Two Narrow Escapes, . 


61 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Emperor Napoleon, 


75 

CHAPTER VII. 

Prisoner of War, 


87 


CHAPTER YIH. 

Returning Good for Evil, . 

5 


99 




THE 

SHEPHERD’S FAMILY. 


CHAPTER I. 

IN THE MEADOW. 

F LY, Cairo, a sheep is straying from the 
flock; go, good dog!” 

The intelligent animal sprang forward, drove 
the wanderer back to its place, and, returning, 
looked into the face of his young master for 
the word of praise he was sure of receiving. 

“ Oh, Cairo!” continued the boy, speaking to 
his dog as to a human being, “the sky is like a 
grey blanket, and there is frost in the air. I 
don’t mind it so much for myself, nor for you, 
Cairo, we can bear it ; but the poor sheep, I pity 
them! Our gracious Herr Baron will see that 
what he saves on dry food will be lost a hundred 
times over, if the plague gets among the flock 
from exposure to dampness and cold. And 


8 The Shepherd's Family. 

another trouble is, poor Uncle Eaumann will 
get all the blame, for that is the way with rich 
people. They are so taken up with hunting 
and other pleasures, that they forget what 
orders they give ; then, if things go wrong, they 
put the blame on their hirelings.” 

Thus spoke Bernard Meyer, an orphan, to 
whom Hans Eaumann gave small wages, but a 
good home, in return for watching the large 
herd of sheep belonging to the estate of Baron 
von Brune. His parents dying when he was 
an infant, he was adopted by Matthias Meyer, 
whose cottage was on the edge of the Black 
Forest in Saxony. 

Here he had received the best training in 
their power to give, for Herr Meyer and his 
wife were humble Christians, and Bernard 
was as one of their own children, and he 
gave them the beloved name of father and 
mother. 

When he had grown to be a healthy, robust 
boy of eleven, his foster-mother’s brother, 
Hans Eaumann, obtained the position of 
shepherd upon the estate of Baron von Brune, 
and having no boy of his own old enough to 


In the Meadow. 


9 


watch the sheep, he applied to Matthias Meyer 
for Bernard. The boy had spent a happy 
childhood with the Meyers, roaming through 
the great fragrant forest, sailing little boats 
upon the Schwanenteich — as the pond near 
their cottage was called — and in winter skating 
upon its smooth surface. Yet he was willing 
to go, and was soon as much at home among 
the kind Baumanns as in the home of his 
foster-parents. 

“ I have learned my Bible lesson, dear 
Cairo,” continued he, “ and will not be ashamed 
to appear in my class next Sunday. It would 
be a shame if I ever failed in my lessons, when 
I have so much time here in the meadows 
while watching the sheep, and with no one to 
talk to but you, who cannot talk back, but only 
wag your tail to let me know you understand. 
I know the lesson that the schoolmaster gave 
me, too ; a curious one it is ; it might be called 
a double multiplication table. Two times two 
times two are eight; three times three times 
three are twenty - seven ; four times four times 
four are sixty - four ; five time five times five 
are one hundred and twenty-five. But stop ; I 


10 The Shepherd's Family . 

must have something to eat, for it is nearly five 
o’clock, and the herd must not be taken in un- 
til six, by the Herr Baron’s orders. But can I 
make a fire this damp evening? That’s the 
question. To boil potatoes one must have a 
fire. Now, Cairo, watch the herd while I get 
some wood. If one wolf should attack us, we 
will fight it; if a whole pack comes, there is 
nothing for us to do but run.” 

The beautiful shepherd dog appeared to un- 
derstand his young master. His quick eye de- 
tected two of the sheep straying towards spots 
where the grass seemed more tempting, and he 
bounded off to drive them back to the herd, 
putting his head against their woolly sides to 
push them gently along, but with no hint of 
using his teeth. 

Bernard returned in a few minutes with his 
arms full of wood gathered in the adjoining 
forest, and proceeded to build a fire. He took 
from his sack a bunch of dry straw, and select- 
ing a suitable place, he piled splinters about it, 
and then the larger pieces of wood. It was 
the year 1811, and matches had not been in- 
vented. Taking steel and flint from his pocket 


In the Meadow. 


11 


he struck sparks with them, which ignited some 
tinder. This he applied to the hay, and soon 
a bright fire was sparkling and crackling in the 
frosty air, a bright spot in the dull landscape. 

“Now for the potatoes, Cairo,” said he to the 
dog, who was . watching the proceedings with 
interest. Taking a few from his sack he 
dropped them into a small iron pot. It was 
but the work of a moment to wash them with 
clear water from the spring near by, and place 
the pot containing them and enough water to 
cover them, over the blazing fire. 

“Beautiful potatoes, Cairo,” said he, admir- 
ingly, “I had to hack into several hills before 
I could fill my sack, but I don’t mind the 
trouble. See how quietly they lie in the water, 
but soon the heat will make it bubble about 
them, and they will find themselves in warm 
quarters. Don’t the fire feel good, Cairo ? You 
can lie down and rest and enjoy the bright 
blaze.” 

Before Cairo had a chance to accept the 
invitation, there was a commotion among the 
sheep. They were listening, apparently fright- 
ened, and Bernard was afraid that a stampede 


12 The Shepherd's Family . 

was about to ensue. Before he could make an 
effort to quiet them, two animals rushed from 
the woods, and over the ends of the sticks 
composing the fire, overturning the pot of 
potatoes, and pouncing with vicious snarls and 
howls upon poor Cairo. 

“ Wolves ! Heaven help me ! ” cried Bernard 
in terror, for it was growing dusk, and the 
attack was sudden, while his attention was 
attracted to the sheep, so he could not for a 
moment decide what species of animal they were. 

Fortunately they were not wolves, but hunt- 
ing dogs belonging to the Baron, but they 
fought and bit poor Cairo almost as savagely 
as wolves would have done, and might have 
killed him had not Bernard come to his rescue. 
He seized the strongest of the sticks and 
struck them with all his force, whereupon they 
released their hold upon Cairo, and limped 
about howling with pain. 

Bernard was victorious, but he shed tears 
over Cairo, who was bleeding from many 
wounds. “Poor Cairo,” said he, “to think 
a noble and useful dog like you should be hurt 
by two worthless hounds!” and seeing that 


In the Meadow . 


13 


they were upon the point of attacking him 
again, he ran to them with uplifted stick, and 
had struck several blows when he . heard the 
sound of horses’ hoofs. 

“What is all this about?” cried an angry 
voice. “ Who dares strike our dogs ? Ho, 
Alii! Kaiser! come here!” 

The hounds', evidently wounded, went howl- 
ing and whining towards the hunters who 
made their appearance at the moment, and 
who halted and leaned down from their horses 
to inspect their condition. 

“Some one has beaten them, and it must 
have been you. How dare you lay a stick 
upon them? ” cried the elder man, angrily. 

“They rushed upon my good dog, Cairo, 
and would have torn him to pieces had I not 
driven them off,” said Bernard, weeping afresh 
as he looked at his wounded companion. 

“ What difference does it make ? I will soon 
put an end to his pain,” said the younger 
hunter riding toward Cairo. 

“No, you shall not,” cried Bernard, stooping 
over Cairo, and protecting him with out- 
stretched arms. “He was doing no harm 
when your savage hounds rushed upon him.” 


14 The Shepherd's Family. 

“Then I will take it out upon you,” was the 
reply, as a cruel stroke of his whip upon Ber- 
nard’s wrists caused him to rise quickly, thrill- 
ing with pain and excitement. 

At that moment a third horseman dashed 
rapidly up, and, hearing the report of his son, 
the two laid their hunting-whips with all their 
strength upon the poor boy, who, putting up 
his arms to protect his face, offered his back as 
a fair target for the angry hunters. They would 
have kept up this inhuman treatment longer, 
had not Cairo, seeing how matters stood, at- 
tacked the legs of the horses, causing them to 
rear and plunge at such a fearful rate that their 
masters had all they could do to quiet them. 
Another bite from Cairo sent the horses off in 
affright, and Bernard sat down by the embers 
of his fire, and wept bitter tears, his arms and 
back bleeding, and his body trembling as with 
a chill. 

He sat there some time, too benumbed with 
pain to move. Then, as the clock in the village 
churchrtower tolled the hour of six, he arose 
and prepared to take the sheep to their stalls. 
He called them, then led the way, and by the 
bleating of hundreds of gentle creatures he 


In the Meadow . 


15 


knew that Cairo, though torn and bleeding, was 
doing his duty, and not a sheep would be miss- 
ing when counted as they passed into their stalls. 

As soon as all were safely housed for the 
night, he went to a brook near the cottage, and 
washed the blood from his face and hands, that 
Hans Kaumann, who was sick in bed, and Frau 
Baumann might not be frightened and dis- 
tressed at the sight. 

“Oh, Bernard!” cried Frau Baumann, the 
moment he appeared, “what has happened to 
you ? Who has struck you ? Your face is 
black and blue, and terribly swollen.” 

“It was the young Baron Baldwin and the 
hunter Henner who first attacked me, but an- 
other came up whom I had never seen before % 
but the young baron called him father, and I 
knew by his angry speeches that it was the 
Herr Baron. They beat me terribly.” 

Frau Baumann clasped her hands in distress, 
which did not lessen when she saw his bared 
arms and back. 

“Oh, the cruel, cruel creatures who .could 
torture a poor boy in this way! We must have 
a doctor. I know no cure for such cuts and 


bruises.” 


16 The Shepherd's Family. 

“No, aunt, there is no need. I will bathe 
them often in milk-warm water with a little 
laudanum in it. My foster-mother always said 
there was no better remedy for cuts than that.” 

“Sister-in-law Meyer is an excellent nurse, 
and knows nearly as much as a doctor ; I will 
get the water and laudanum, and you must use 
it right away.” 

“ But first I must attend to poor Cairo ; he 
was shamefully bitten by the hounds. If he 
dies, I don’t know what we would do without 
him ; besides, we all love him so. I do believe 
he saved my life, for if he had not bitten the 
legs of the horses, I think the baron and his 
son would have beaten me to death.” 

“No doubt the baron was under the influ- 
ence of beer ; I hear that he is seldom entirely 
sober.” 

Cairo had made the effort to be his own 
physician, having plunged into the brook as 
soon as they reached it; but Bernard bathed 
his wounds with the laudanum and water, 
Cairo, appearing to understand that it was 
done for his good, and, looking up at his mas- 
ter with affectionate gratitude, he licked the 
bruised hands. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE BARON, THE SHEPHERD , AND THE 
PASTOR . 

T HE next morning the baron rang his bell 
violently, and his valet answered the sum- 
mons as quickly as possible. 

“Are Alii and Kaiser much hurt ? ” inquired 
he. 

“The veterinary surgeon has been here all 
night. He says Alii is crippled in the back.” 

“Then she is no use for running, and might 
as well have a bullet put through her head,” 
exclaimed the baron angrily. “And Kaiser?” 

“His nose is so swollen it looks like a muff, 
and the doctor thinks the teeth of the shep- 
herd dog have destroyed his power to scent 
game.” 

“Then he too must be killed,” said the baron, 
stamping his foot in rage. “ Two such splen- 
did hunters to be injured in such a niggardly 
way ! Had one been gored by the horns of a 
17 


2 


18 The Shepherd's Family . 

stag, and the other been torn by a wolf, I 
should never have given the subject a thought. 
Send the steward to me.” 

“See here, Holfort,” continued he the mo- 
ment the man appeared, “are your eyes hid- 
den in the depths of your pockets that you 
don’t see what is going on upon the estate. I 
furnish you an ample allowance to provide an 
experienced shepherd, and instead of a compe- 
tent man to attend the herd, I find a mis- 
erable boy of only eleven or twelve years of 
age. Not only that, the flock was out in a mist 
that was almost a rain, and after five o’clock in 
the evening. The sheep will have the snuffles, 
but of course it will be of no account to you, I 
being the only loser.” 

“ But, gracious Herr Baron, you gave orders 
this morning to spare the dry feed, and to let 
the sheep remain in the meadows until you 
gave further orders.” 

“But it was almost dark, yet there was no 
move made to bring the herd in for the night.” 

“But, Herr Baron,- you gave orders that the 
sheep should remain out until six o’clock.” 

“But has the weather nothing to do with 


The Baron , Shepherd , and Pastor. 19 

it?” cried the baron, almost beside himself with 
rage; “six o’clock of a mild, sunny day, and 
six o’clock of a wet, cold one, are different 
things. I employ you to attend to such mat- 
ters, and you are supposed to employ a compe- 
tent shepherd.” 

“And I have done so ; he has the highest re- 
commendations, and lives up to them. He un- 
derstands the nature and management of sheep, 
and is a kind, good man. He only obeyed 
orders.” 

“ Why was he not attending to the herd?” 

“I told you yesterday, Herr Baron, that 
Hans Baumann was sick and unable to leave 
his bed, and his nephew had to go alone to the 
field. He caught cold from being in the water 
so long the day one of the sheep broke through 
the bridge and came near being drowned. He 
saved the sheep, but caught a severe cold.” 

“ That was his fault, not mine.” 

“ Baumann told me several times, and I told 
the Herr Baron, that the planks were weak, 
and not safe for the herd to pass over.” 

“And I knew it was only a scheme to get 
money out of my pocket; but the main point 


20 The Shepherd's Family. 

of the question is, that a sick shepherd is no 
use to me, and I will not have the estate bur- 
dened with him. Give him notice to-day that 
he is to leave when his quarter is up, which 
will be very soon; and have the boy taken to 
the lock-up ; which is mild punishment for kill- 
ing two of my best hunters.” 

“ But, gracious Herr Baron, who will watch 
the sheep ? ” 

“ Baumann must see to that, and pay for a 
shepherd out of his own pocket. Now you 
can go.” 

Bernard in the meantime had passed a rest- 
less night. The tepid bath had soothed him, 
but there was no position he could rest in 
that his wounds did not trouble him. He 
arose in the morning, stiff and sore, and with 
none of the light-hearted buoyancy 'which 
characterized him. Cairo, too, seemed much 
depressed in spirits, and did not seem at all 
glad to go to the field, as was usual to him. 

Bernard was full of anxiety, and concluded 
to ask Herr Baumann's advice, hoping that in 
the dimness of the morning light in the room 
his bruised face would not be noticed. 


The Baron , Shepherd, and Pastor. 21 

“I wish you would tell me what is the best to 
do for Cairo,” said he. “The Herr Baron’s 
dogs almost killed him last evening; I don’t 
believe he is able to watch the sheep to-day.” 

“If he does not seem inclined to go, it is 
because he is not able. It will be hard upon 
you, my boy, but for to-day I think you must 
let Cairo remain at home. I will see to his 
wounds and try to have him able to go by 
to-morrow,” replied his uncle. 

Bernard went out, and opening the outer 
door was starting for the sheep-fold when he 
was accosted by the steward and a man from 
the village. 

Bernard heard their errand, then, returning, 
he opened the kitchen door softly. 

“Aunt Baumann, please come here, I wish 
to speak to you,” said he. 

The kind woman noticed the tremor in the 
boy’s voice, and quitting her work of preparing 
breakfast, followed him out. 

“ The baron has sent me to arrest your boy 
for injuring his hunting dogs so badly that 
they are of no further use for game,” said the 


man. 


22 


The Shepherd's Family. 


Frau Eaumann trembled and grew pale, not 
only in sympathy for the boy, but knowing the 
anxiety it would cause her sick husband. She 
had often seen the lock-up, and knew that it 
was used in cases of imprisonment for minor 
offences; but that any one belonging to her 
should be placed there had never crossed her 
mind. 

Bernard bade her good-bye, and advising her 
not to let Herr Eaumann know of this new 
trouble, he went with the man, and soon found 
himself in a dreary room with four bare walls, 
and a poor straw bed in the corner. A small 
window gave the only light, but instead of 
glass there were iron bars, through which the 
cold autumn air was passing freely. 

Frau Eaumann went into her cottage for her 
wraps, then hurried to the village to get some 
trusty person to watch the sheep, carefully 
keeping the knowledge of her errand from her 
husband. 

She had been gone but a short time when 
little Lina asked her father a few questions : 

“Is the lock-up a pretty place, father?” 

“Come away and let father sleep,” said 


The Baron , Shepherd , and Pastor. 23 

Annamarie, the eight year old daughter, as 
she rocked the cradle of the sleeping baby. 

“ Oh no, let her talk. I am not sleepy. No, 
Lieschen, the lock-up is not a pretty place, 
and it is only those who are disorderly, or 
have stolen something, or are begging without 
cause, who are put there.” 

“What has our Bernard done?” inquired 
the little one, “was he begging?” 

“Preserve us, child, no! What put such 
nonsense into your head,” said the shepherd, 
smiling. “Bernard is not in the lock-up.” 

“Yes he is, and I heard him tell mother not 
to tell you.” 

“But you had to tell,” said Annamarie, in- 
dignantly; mother' will be angry when she 
hears it.” 

“ But she did not tell me not to tell,” said 
the child beginning to cry. 

“Is it true?” questioned the shepherd anxi- 
ously, “what has the boy done?” 

“Nothing, only trying to keep /poor Cairo 
from being killed by the Herr Baron’s hounds,” 
replied Annamarie. “Because he tried to 
drive them away, the Herr Baron and his son 


24 The Shepherd's Family. 

Baldwin struck him witli their whips over the 
shoulders and back and head, and then had 
him put in the lock-up. And the steward says 
you are to give up your place, father. The 
Herr Baron says a sick shepherd is no use to 
him. 

“And whose fault is it that I am sick; whose 
but the baron’s? Had he been willing to have 
new planks put in the bridge, I would not have 
taken cold by saving a sheep from drowning 
that had broken through ” 

From anxiety or fright many sick persons 
have died, while, on the other hand, cases have 
been known where new strength has been given 
through these causes. The German Emperor, 
Henry I., rose from his sick-bed upon hearing 
of the approach of the Huns ; and lame per- 
sons have been known to escape from burning 
buildings. 

So it was with no little surprise that they 
saw their father arise from his bed, dress, put 
on hat and overcoat, and hurry from the house 0 

Frau Baumann, who met him not far from 
their cottage, was filled with surprise and anxiety. 

“You will take your death,” said she; “and 


The Baron , Shepherd, and Pastor . 25 

besides, it is not well for yon to see the baron ; 
you know how ill-tempered he is.” 

“Do not worry about me, dear Hannchen; I 
will not act hastily. But I must make some 
effort for poor Bernard ; he is in my care, and 
I must do what I can to protect him. I will 
not quarrel with the Herr Baron, nor with any 
one. An irritable, hot-tempered man is not 
fit to manage sheep, and I have cultivated a 
peaceable disposition.” 

“That I well know, having lived with you 
thirteen years, and never saw you angry ; but 
we have never met with any one like the 
baron.” 

They parted, and he hurried away to the 
lock-up to have a word with Bernard. 

He found the window to be above hi/head, 
and there was nothing near which he could 
stand upon to reach it. 

“Bernard!” called he, in a low tone, “Ber- 
nard!” 

What he had hoped for came to pass, for 
Bernard put the tips of his shoes in the nicks 
in the wall cut by former prisoners and reached 
the window. 


'26 The Shepherd's Tamily. 

The heart of Hans Raumann thrilled with 
compassion when he saw the bruised and dis- 
colored face of the boy. 

“Poor fellow!” said he, “I know all; have 
patience, and I will do what I can to have you 
set free.” 

Bernard, who had borne his troubles man- 
fully, could not withstand the tender tones of 
Herr Baumann, and burst into tears. 

“Don’t cry,” said the shepherd; “remember 
that it is better to suffer injustice than to in- 
flict it.” 

“But the shame of it,” sobbed Bernard, “the 
shame of it”; and he wiped the tears away 
with the sleeve of his jacket, while with the 
other hand he clung to the iron bar. 

“ The blessed Saviour was a thousand times 
higher than you, yet he suffered injustice of 
every kind. Try to call all the good things to 
memory that you have learned from the Scrip- 
tures. In the meantime, are you cold or 
hungry?” 

“ I am not very cold, but I have had nothing 
to eat since noon yesterday. My potatoes are 
scattered over the field where the dogs threw 


The Baron , Shepherd , and Pastor. 27 

them; please send Christopher or Annamarie 
to gather them, my head was so thick from the 
blows of the whip that I forgot them.” 

Here Bernard’s foot slipped from its notch, 
and he dropped from view. He was about as- 
cending again when his uncle spoke : 

“Don’t try to hold on there any longer, I will 
do all I can to help you out. Keep up a good 
heart, and good-bye.” 

From the lock-up he went to see the village 
pastor, who welcomed him cordially, and to him 
he told all his troubles. 

“What do you think of doing in order to re- 
lease the boy?” inquired the pastor. 

“I will speak to the authorities about it. 
Bernard was doing only his duty in trying to 
defend my property. There is no justice in the 
land if the rich are thus allowed to oppress 
the poor.” 

“And whom do you hope to win over to 
your side ?” 

“The magistrate.” 

“Just so, but where will the magistrate feast 
after the hearing is over?” 

“At the castle of the Herr Baron.” 


28 


The Shepherd's Family . 

“ Yes. And have yon forgotten the proverb, 
‘I sing the praises of the man whose bread I 
eat?’” 

“But there is higher justice to be found if 
that fail me.” 

“ Perhaps so, if you have money to carry on 
an expensive law suit against the baron. If 
you think to liberate the boy in that way, you 
will find yourself mistaken.” 

The shepherd sat looking thoughtfully down, 
he knew not what course to take. 

“I do not wish to discourage you,” said the 
pastor, “but only to convince you that the 
easiest way out of this difficulty will be the 
better one. It would be a sad thing for us if 
human justice were the only justice. We all 
have need to plead, ‘ Forgive us our trespasses 
as we forgive those who trespass against us.’ 
Do not let this circumstance excite and worry 
you into doing anything you would be sorry 
for when you have time to reflect. It, like all 
troubles, will pass away. Bemember the beau- 
tiful reflection : 

‘ If I think of the world, I get the impress of the world, 

If I think of my trials, I get the impress of my trials, 


The Baron , Shepherd , and Pastor. 29 

If I think of my failures, I get the impress of my fail- 
ures, 

If I think of Christ, I get the impress of Christ.’ 

Therefore, do not contend with your adver- 
sary, but for your sake as well as his, set him 
an example of meekness.” 

“But poor Bernard will in the meantime re- 
main in the lock-up.” 

“In dealing with one like the baron we 
must be wise as serpents, yet harmless as doves. 
My advice is for you to see the Frau Baroness 
in regard to it. She is not only a hearer of the 
word, but a doer of it. Through her influence 
the boy stands a better chance for liberty than 
in any other way that I can think of; at all 
events, it is no harm to try. But under no cir- 
cumstances attempt to contend with the baron, 
or it will be the worse for you.” 

The shepherd went away resolved not to call 
upon the law for assistance. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE LOCK-UP. 

B EFORE her husband returned, Frau Bau- 
mann had prepared something for Bernard 
to eat, and sent Annamarie and Christopher 
with it to the lock-up. When they reached it, 
and found the height of the window from the 
ground, they were for a moment discouraged ; 
but Annamarie was quick-witted enough to 
think of a plan. 

“You can stand upon my shoulders,” said 
she ; “ you will then be taller than any man, 
and, I am sure, can reach the window.” 

“ But you could not stand there all the time 
Bernard is eating. I am heavier than you 
think.” 

“ You can hold on by one arm to one of the 
iron bars ; [that will take some of the weight 
from my shoulders.” 

“ But how am I to feed Bernard out of the 
cup if I have to hold it and the spoon in my 
other hand ? ” 


30 


31 


The Lock-up. 

“ You need not hold it ; set the cup on the 
sill ; it is wide enough to hold a tin cup.” 

The plan seemed to be taking shape, and, 
without making any more objections, Christo- 
pher mounted to the window. 

“ Ho, stand still, my little white pony,” said 
he, as he reached down for the bowl and heard 
Bernard clambering eagerly up the inside part 
of the wall. 

“Here is some hot bread and milk,” said 
Christopher, as Bernard’s scarred and swollen 
face appeared at the window. “Now, be a 
good baby, and mamma will feed you out of 
the spoon. Now he opens his mouth like a 
young robin. Hi ! that was a grand mouthful. 
Don’t it warm you beautifully ? ” 

Bernard showed his appreciation of the 
thoughtful kindness of Frau Baumann and the 
children by draining the bowl to the last drop. 

“I never tasted anything so good in my 
life,” said he ; “ thank Aunt Baumann for her 
goodness to me.” 

“ Mother told us to tell you that she would 
send some salve for your bruises and a warm 
wrap ; and she says to be patient, and not 


32 The Shepherd's Family. 

wear out jour knees and shoes climbing up the 
rough wall except when there is need.” 

Annamarie had made a restless movement of 
the shoulders, which brought to Christopher’s 
remembrance that holding a stout boy was not 
the most pleasant of pastimes, nor intended to 
be prolonged longer than was necessary. 

“ I hear some one coming,” said Bernard ; 
“ get down as quickly as you can.” 

Christopher jumped from his perch, and 
Annamarie straightened herself and looked 
about her. 

“Who are you, children, and what are you 
doing here?” questioned a strange yet plea- 
sant voice, that of the Baroness von Brune, 
who was accompanied by her little daughter 
Aurelia and her nephew, the young Baron 
Benno, who wore the uniform of a cadet. He 
and her son Baldwin were students in the mili- 
tary school, and were spending a short vaca- 
tion at the castle. 

“We have been feeding our Cousin Ber- 
nard,” said Christopher. “He missed his 
supper of potatoes last evening and his break- 
fast this morning, and was nearly starved. 


33 


The Lock-up . 

“The poor boy!” said Benno; “look at him, 
aunt! Wasn’t it a shame to beat him so for 
trying to protect his dog?” 

The lady made no reply, but her eyes were 
full of tears. 

“You ought to see his back,” said Chris- 
topher. “It looks like a picture our school- 
master showed us of a striped animal, he 
called it a zebra.” 

“But I cannot see why he was foolish 
enough to beat the baron’s dogs, they are 
badly hurt,” remarked the baroness. 

“But, gracious lady,” said Annamarie, brave- 
ly, “they would have torn our Cairo to pieces. 
Had Cairo done the same with his dogs the 
baron would have killed him.” 

“Yes, the shoe would have then been upon 
the other foot,” laughed Benno. “If a pea- 
sant’s cow eats a nobleman’s corn, the peasant 
must pay for the damage done ; but if the other 
way the peasant must bear the loss as best he 
can.” 

“ Benno, you should not say such things to 
the children, it creates a feeling against their 
superiors.” 

3 


34 The Shepherd's Family . 

“ But, aunt, you see there was no justice in 
it. The boy was shamefully treated because 
he was defending his property. Had he been 
a cadet instead of a shepherd boy, we would 
make him an adjutant, because he was brave 
in the cause of right, and did his best to de- 
fend the oppressed. I do hope you can prevail 
upon my uncle to have him brought out of this 
miserable place.” 

“Baron Benno talks like a book,” com- 
mented Christopher softly to his sister. 

“But, Benno, you see how that class of 
people deceives us. Yesterday the shepherd 
was ill in bed, and we did not know but he 
would die ; to-day he is around as well as ever, 
trying to get the boy out of the lock-up. What 
are we to think of such treatment?” 

“I know nothing of the shepherd, aunt, but 
I do know of the boy, and think he is to be 
pitied. He did only what he thought was 
right.” 

“I am sure papa will let him out if you ask 
him, mamma,” said Aurelia. 

“Well, good-bye, children!” said the baron- 
ess as she turned thoughtfully away, resolved 


The Lock-up. 35 

to do all she could to have the boy released, 
yet not willing to raise false hopes. 

“Did you hear all they said?” questioned 
Christopher, as he again mounted to the win- 
dow. 

“Yes,” replied the prisoner, “and I would 
go through fire and water for that young Baron 
Benno.” 

“ But neither the pleadings of the baroness, 
nor the advice of Pastor Arnot, could change 
the mind of the baron, and Bernard remained 
in the lock-up. 

But, fortunately for his peace of mind, he 
was accustomed to solitude, and the time did 
not seem so long to him as it would to boys 
who all day long had companions. 

He was also used to exposure to cold, both 
as shepherd boy and as former assistant to his 
foster-father, having roamed through the Black 
Forest in all weathers, and was no more put 
out by snow or rain than by blue sky and sun- 
shine. Neither was he afraid of the darkness 
of night in his dungeon. He had, with Herr 
Meyer, hunted wolves at midnight, when they 
and other wild animals came too near the 


36 


The Shepherd's Family. 


poultry and other live-stock belonging to the 
forester. At noon the keeper of the lock-up 
visited him and left a stone pitcher of fresh 
water and half a loaf of brown bread. Ber- 
nard thanked him, and had just seated himself 
to eat after the man left, when he heard Chris- 
topher’s voice at the window : 

“Here is a splendid dinner for you,” said 
he; “there are two large slices of roast veal 
and several kinds of vegetables, and stewed 
plums, and white rolls. Dear me, it is a fine 
thing to be shut up in .the lock-up.” 

“ Oh ! the splendid dinner ! ” cried Bernard, 
when, after climbing up, he saw the new tin 
platter of good things. “ Where did the 
mother get such elegant food ? ” 

“ Oh! you foolish boy, where would she get 
it, sure enough ? It was the good Frau 
Baroness who sent it to you from her own 
table. Now eat, and talk afterwards.” 

Bernard followed this agreeable advice, and 
enjoyed the meal heartily. 

“Now I have had enough,” said he, when 
nearly half the meat and other things disap- 
peared from the platter. “ Do you and Anna- 


The Lock-up. 37 

marie divide the rest between you, and a 
blessed meal-time to you.” 

“Are you sure you have had all you want ? ” 
asked Christopher. 

“Yes, indeed; and you were so good to 
bring it. Thank the kind baroness for me.” 

Christopher gave Annamarie the plate and 
jumped down, and the two enjoyed the feast 
quite as well as Bernard had done, he looking 
on from the window. 

“ The baroness told me to tell you that she 
would send a blanket for your bed this even- 
ing,” said Christopher, climbing again, by the 
help of Annamarie, to the window. “ Here is 
a bottle of liniment she sent you ; I had nearly 
forgotten it. My! it smells so good that you 
had better put it inside instead of outside. 
Now good-bye ; we are going.” 

The short afternoon passed away, for it grew 
dark very early in the room in the lock-up. 
The keeper had been in and left more bread 
and water, and in spite of his wish to keep 
awake to listen for Baron Benno, Bernard fell 
asleep. His bruises had kept him awake so 
much the night before that he found he was 


38 The Shepherd's Family. 

incapable of keeping liis eyes open any longer, 
but was quite sure that he would wake when 
Herr Benno spoke to him. But Benno called 
his name several times, and hearing no re- 
sponse, he found a rail, and by its aid reached 
the window, and pushed as much of the 
blanket between the bars as would go through 
without help from the other side. 

“I hope the poor boy is alive,” thought he. 
“ I am glad I brought the bunch of large keys 
from the castle, I will try to open the door and 
see why he does not answer my calls.” 

He left the blanket dangling from the win- 
dow, and tried the keys in the outer door. 

“ Ha ! Here is one that fits exactly. It 
turns, and I am in the corridor, and the key 
of Bernard’s room is in the door.” 

He unlocked it and entered, but the dark- 
ness prevented him for a time from seeing 
anything. The deep breathing of the boy 
guided him to the bed of straw, and he knelt 
down beside it. 

“His forehead is as cold as a stone,” said 
he, putting his warm fingers upon it, “and 
his hands like ice. Ho, Bernard!” cried he, 


39 


The Lock-up. 

shaking the shoulders of the boy, “ are you 
sick? Have you a chill? See, I have brought 
you a warm blanket ; but now that I find I can 
get in, I. will see that you have no occasion 
to use it.” 

The words were spoken in as low a tone as 
possible. Benno was sure he would not be 
heard by the keeper, who, with his family, was 
at the other end of the building, but at that 
moment a well-known voice was heard under 
the grated window. 

“Who is in that room with the prisoner? 
Say! who is talking in there? ” 

Benno whispered to Bernard to be silent, 
and going swiftly to the door he opened it, 
took out the key, locked it from the inside, 
and put it in his pocket. 

“I ask who is in there, and will have an 
answer,” said the same voice now at the door, 
its owner having found the outer door un- 
locked. 

Disguising his voice, Benno went to the 
door and talked through the key-hole. 

“Victorious general!” said he, “you had 
your triumph yesterday upon the field of bat- 


40 The Shepherd's Tamily. 

tie at the head of the artillery, now you rush 
cn foot upon a weaponless enemy.” 

“ That is not Bernard who is speaking ; who 
is it ? ” 

“Your question shall be answered. I, the 
Emperor Napoleon, have come to the rescue 
of the shepherd-boy, and command that he be 
released.” 

“Oh! stop your nonsense and tell me who 
you are, or I will go to the jailer and tell him 
you are there,” said Baldwin, angrily, for it 
was he. 

“ That is business that would suit you,*' 
laughed Benno, “and I would advise you to 
run to the village to get sympathizers, for no 
one on the estate will be on your side.” 

Too angry to make reply, the young Baron 
Baldwin returned to the castle, and Benno 
assisted Bernard to rise. 

“Now is your time to leave this place, my 
boy. I will unlock the door, and the way will 
be- clear.” My uncle is away and will not be 
home until to-morrow, the inspector is at the 
castle drinking beer with the servants, from 
whence a team of horses could not draw him. 


41 


The Lock-ujp. 

So, go now, Bernard, and take the blanket 
with you ; my good aunt gives it to you.” 

“But, dear Herr Baron Benno,” said the 
bewildered boy, “I am afraid something will 
happen to you for letting me out.” 

“Nothing will happen unless you refuse to 
go,” laughed Benno, “in which case I will lie 
down beside you and take cold in this damp 
place.” 

Bernard was not willing to have him run 
such a risk. Moreover, he was deeply rejoiced 
to get out, so, taking the blanket upon his arm, 
he made quick steps for the cottage, and for 
further security resolved to sleep that night in 
the sheep-fold. 


CHAPTER IY. 

CHRISTMAS AT THE CASTLE. 


HE Baron von Brune was secretly satis- 



1 tied that Bernard had escaped from the 
lock-up ; for, his anger being past, he was 
ashamed of his harshness, particularly as he 
saw that public opinion was in favor of the 
boy. Therefore, when Baldwin came, in great 
excitement, to tell him that. Bernard had es- 
caped, he bade him say nothing about the af- 
fair in any way. 

Yet he did not withdraw his decision in re- 
gard to dismissing Baumann from his service ; 
and the shepherd was much disturbed in mind, 
owing principally to the shortness of the time 
allowed him for selecting another home. 

The dogs had recovered, and the dark pro- 
phecies of their physician came to naught ; yet 
that did not make the baron any more lenient 
to the shepherd’s family. He avoided them, 
and the shepherd did not put himself in the 
baron’s way ; so they never met. 


42 


Christmas at the Castle. 43 

Baldwin and Benno liad returned to school, 
and would not visit the castle until the Christ- 
mas holidays. 

For this joyous festival the kind baroness 
was making great preparations. Aurelia had 
invited several girl friends, and some of the 
cadets were to accompany Baldwin and Benno. 
They were to have a merry time, and the old 
castle would ring with mirth and be fragrant 
with good cheer. 

Christmas came. Not one of the expected 
guests was absent. The castle was brilliant 
with light, and the Christmas tree was beauti- 
ful beyond description. 

In the midst of the fun and frolic, Benno 
slipped away and went to the shepherd’s cot- 
tage. He had been there the evening before, 
and had asked permission to have the loan of 
“Mansel,” a snow-white lamb, which was a 
great pet of the Baumann children. It be- 
longed to the baron’s herd, but, its mother 
having died, the shepherd took it to his cot- 
tage, where the children had fed it with milk, 
and it was now more than half-grown, and a 
pet of the whole family. It was Lieschen’s 


44 The Shepherd's Family . 

especial companion, and followed her every- 
where, being unhappy when she was not in 
sight. 

So, in furtherance of the merry prank of 
taking the lamb to the castle, Lieschen was to 
accompany them, or, like the pig in the fable, 
the lamb would not go. 

Wrapped in tissue paper, Benno carried a 
large and handsome doll ; and when they 
reached the door which led to the large draw- 
ing-room of the castle, he unwrapped it and 
placed it upon the back of the lamb. 

Lieschen opened the door, and walked in. 
The lamb followed, then Benno, and they stood 
in the midst of the merry-makers. 

“Here, Cousin Aurelia, you have always 
wished a shepherd maiden and her lamb ; now 
you see it. Observe the pink satin costume, 
true to nature, contrasting beautifully with the 
snow-white fleece of the lamb. Notice also 
that she is double-jointed, and, with a little 
help from some one, can jump off and on with 
wonderful rapidity. The lamb, as you will ob- 
serve, has real wool — in fact, is as perfect an 
imitation of the genuine article as one can 
imagine.” 


Christmas at the Castle. 45 

Just then the lamb uttered a prolonged 
“ba,” which increased the merriment of the 
spectators. 

“Quite, a drama!” said Baldwin, ironically, 
jealous that Benno had thought of this amuse- 
ment for the guests. 

The lecture was brought to a sudden close, 
for the lights reflected from the Christmas tree 
were too much for the lamb, and after his first 
bewildered surprise, he indulged in frisking and 
plunging, causing the girls to flee, scream- 
ing with mirth, to the sofa’s and chairs, while 
stools were overturned, and papers and books 
scattered far and wide. 

The baron raved and stormed, the baroness 
coaxed, the children shouted, Baldwin taunted, 
and Benno laughed. Poor Leischen called, 
but the lamb was too frightened to hear her. 
Baldwin, seeing there was an opportunity to 
exercise his spite against anything that was 
treasured by the shepherd’s family, rushed 
upon it with his pocket-knife, inflicting several 
wounds, which caused the blood to dye its 
white wool in spots of crimson. 

Lieschen sprang to protect it, and wept 


46 The Shepherd's Family . 

bitterly when Mansel hid its head in her 
bosom. 

“Mansel, dear Mansel, let us go home,” said 
she, and Benno opened the door for them. 

“Now see what your foolishness has done,” 
said Baldwin, when Benno returned after see- 
ing them safely to the cottage. “There are 
our games scattered over the floor, and Aure- 
lia’s beautiful perfume bottle broken and the 
perfume wasted.” 

“But you have covered yourself with glory,” 
retorted Benno. “You attacked the enemy in 
the shape of a lamb and conquered it. You 
are a brave and gallant warrior.” 

The baron would have resented this speech 
to his son had not one thing restrained him. 
In the military school Baldwin would have 
been dunce of his class had not Benno helped 
him in his difficulties. Therefore, the father 
kept back the hasty rebuke which it would 
have been much satisfaction to give. 

Lieschen had in the meantime told the story 
to the family, and their exclamations of dismay 
at seeing the blood upon Mansel were many 
and sincere. Annamarie took the candle from 
the table to examine the wounds. 


Christmas at the Castle. 47 

“Mansel has tears in his eyes,” said Christo- 
pher, as the light fell upon them. 

“Don’t worry, children, the lamb is not 
much hurt,” said Herr Raumann, who had been 
examining its wounds. “It’s wool is thick, 
and the young baron’s knife dull, so the stabs 
are not deep, and Mansel will be well in a day 
or two.” 

The children were comforted, and Leischen 
had just finished telling them of the beautiful 
Christmas tree, when there came a knock upon 
the door, and when it was opened there stood 
a servant from the castle, bearing a large basket 
of cakes, confectionery, and other good things 
sent by the baroness. Not one of the family 
but was remembered by a gift, all suitable and 
good, and such as they could not have pur- 
chased for themselves. 

Frau Raumann also had made all the pre- 
paration she could for the beloved holiday. A 
small Christmas tree was loaded with cakes in 
the shape of animals and birds ; red apples 
were heaped under it, and nuts and candies in 
small quantities were dotted about the moss 
which covered the bank upon which it stood. 


48 The Shepherd's Family. 

They were to have real coffee the next morning 
for breakfast, and two of Frau Raumann’s fat- 
test chickens for dinner, and the whole day 
was to be filled with pleasure. 

“ I well know that miserable Baron Baldwin 
vented his spite upon us by wounding our poor 
innocent Mansel,” thought Bernard that night, 
as he went to his lodging in the sheep-stall. 
“ He has a cruel heart, and will be as wicked 
as his father if he don’t mend his ways.” 

The little family arose at the usual time the 
next morning, and after the Christmas greet- 
ings were over, the father offered up the morn- 
ing prayer, giving thanks to God for the gift of 
his dear Son, our Saviour, who has gone to 
prepare a place for those who believe in him. 
Then their humble gifts were distributed, 
nearly all home-made, in which knitted mit- 
tens formed a prominent part, all done in the 
evenings by the good house-mother ; and when 
they set out for the service in the village 
church, the mittens were worn, and very proud 
the wearers were of them. On the way the 
shepherd had the company of Melchor, one of 
the herdsmen on the estate, for a short dis- 


Christmas at the Castle. 49 

tance. Raumann knew him to be a rough, ig- 
norant boy, but had never suspected him of 
being vicious. 

“Our young baron did a wicked thing in 
stabbing your children’s pet lamb,” remarked 
he, as he walked along. “He must always be 
doing something to hurt you or your family. I 
wonder you put up with it. If I were in your 
place I would give the rich people something 
to remember me by.” 

“What would you do?” questioned the 
shepherd quietly. 

“ I would some night put a torch to the hay 
in the sheep-fold, or mix arsenic in their salt 
in the field.” 

“ Oh ! you wicked, wicked creature ! ” cried 
Hans Raumann in horror at the thought ; “ go 
away from us ; we don’t wish the company of 
such a person.” 

“Yes, I don’t intend going any further with 
you. I only came to tell you this, and to ask 
if you have got another place.” 

The shepherd could not trust himself to 
reply ; he only cast a severe glance upon Mel- 
chor, who turned and went back to the castle. 


4 


50 The Shepherd's Family . 

Baumann was sorry to have met Melchor/ 
He had endeavored all the morning to put 
aside anxious thoughts as to where he should 
go when his quarter was up, for he wished to 
enjoy the meeting in God’s house with thoughts 
free from the cares of life. The wickedness of 
Melchor shocked him. He had not believed 
that any one upon the estate would take the 
life of an innocent animal to avenge himself 
upon the baron. But as soon as he was seated 
in the church his ruffled feelings were calmed, 
and he enjoyed the service as only a Christian 
can. 

As soon as they returned to the cottage he 
went to the sheep-fold, where the joyful bleat- 
ing of hundreds of sheep welcomed him, and 
as many as could crowd around him rubbed 
their heads against him, showing their affection 
in the only way they could. 

“Poor innocents!” said he, “how could any 
one have the heart to see you struggling in the 
flames, or your bodies writhing in the tortures 
of poison! ” 

His sleep that night was disturbed, for he 
could not overcome the fear that Melchor 


Christmas at the Castle . 51 

would do some harm to the sheep. His rea- 
son for this fear was that a few days before, 
the baron in a tempest of anger had broken his 
cane over Melclior’s back ; and since hearing 
the boy talk he believed that the insult was 
not forgotten, and that only an opportunity 
was wanting to avenge the wrong in any way 
that his ignorant depravity prompted. 

The next, morning, Christopher, who had 
been sent to the village upon an errand, re- 
turned, bringing an important message. 

“Father,” said he, “the Herr Pastor called 
to me from his window, and said to tell you to 
come to see him now, if possible, he has some- 
thing to tell you.” 

“There is no time better than now. I will 
go right away,” and in a little while Herr Bau- 
mann reached the village. The pastor was in 
his study and welcomed him kindly. 

“Baumann,” said he, “I read in this morn- 
ing’s paper that a nobleman in Bussia will give 
an excellent salary to a competent German 
shepherd who comes well recommended. He 
will also pay all expenses of the journey there. 
The agent is in Dresden, and no doubt will 


52 The Shepherd's Family . 

have many applicants, but your chance to get 
the position is as good as any of them, and I 
advise you to try. Consult with your family, 
and if you are willing to go to Kussia, stop 
here on your way to Dresden and I will have 
letters of recommendation ready for you. Try 
to get one from the baron also. It would go 
far toward securing the position if he would 
give you a good one. And now you have no 
time to lose.” 

Thanking the kind pastor, Hans Kaumann 
hurried away and laid the scheme before his 
wife and children. 

“To Kussia!” cried Frau Kaumann, “with 
four children; the youngest not a year old!” 

“To Kussia!” exclaimed Christopher, “where 
wolves are plentier than people, and men are 
banished to Siberia ! ” 

“To Kussia!” said Annamarie, “where the 
milk freezes on its way from the cow to the 
bucket!” 

Bernard alone was inclined to take Kussia 
under his protection ; and after consideration, 
all agreed that the father should start imme- 
diately for Dresden. 


Christmas at the Castle. 


53 


“ Yes, I will go,” said Herr Baumann ; “and 
if the choice should fall upon me or upon some 
other man, I shall know it is God’s will, and be 
content. The Herr pastor advised me to get a 
recommendation from the baron, and I shall 
ask for it, although it is not a pleasant thing to 
do when one is sure of a refusal ; yet it is 
worth the trial, and would be much to me if I 
could get it.” 

He bade his family an affectionate good-bye, 
for they were a happy, united family, and it 
was a trial to all to have him go, even for a 
short time. His first call was at the castle, and 
it was not with any hope or pleasure that he 
asked to see the baron and told his errand. 

“ Come to me for a recommendation, you 
who shirk duty by feigning sickness ? No, in- 
deed ; my conscience will not allow me to 
speak well of you, and a poor report is worse 
than none.” 

Without a word the shepherd turned away, 
and was soon in the study of the pastor. 

“ Perhaps you are quite as well off without 
one of any kind from him,” said Herr Arnot, 
when he heard of the fruitless application for a 


54 The Shepherd's Family . 

recommendation. “ I shall write a full expla- 
nation to the agent of the cause of your being 
dismissed, and give my opinion of the affair 
and of you. I will inclose the recommenda- 
tions of two of our prominent churchmen ; and 
as the agent is well acquainted with them, I 
believe you will secure the position.” 

With a lightened heart Hans Raumann set 
out, and in three days returned in the same 
good spirits. “There were seven applicants 
for the place,” said be, “but the letter of our 
good pastor, saying that I was a kind and mer- 
ciful man to animals, influenced them for me. 
On this paper is the list of what we are to have 
in our new home.” 

Frau Raumann took the paper and read : 
“ Roomy, comfortable cottage, free of rent ; one 
cow yearly, also two hogs, six sheep, twenty 
hens, twelve shocks of corn, one hundred 
pounds of butter, and three thousand pounds 
of meal.” 

“ Is that possible ? ” said she, with tears of 
joy in her eyes. “And here are potatoes, and 
peas, and beans, barley, wheat, oats ; and for 
salary, one hundred and fifty silver rubles, for 


Christmas at the Castle. 


55 


taking care of from five to six thousand sheep ; 
also the use of a horse, and food for it.” 

“A horse is necessary there in watching such 
a large herd,” said Herr Baumann. 

‘*1 wonder why they wished a German shep- 
herd?” questioned his wife. 

“ The steward upon the estate is a German, 
and the nobleman who owns the estate is 
about the court of the Czar in St. Petersburg, 
and leaves all the management to the steward.” 

The time soon came for them to go. All 
things they could dispense with were sold, that 
the large wagon Hans Baumann had purchased 
might hold their property and themselves. A 
supply of provisions sufficient to last until they 
should reach their destination was provided by 
the good housewife, and all the furniture they 
could do without for the last night they were 
to remain, was packed in the wagon to insure 
an early start in the morning. 

The children had bidden good-bye to the 
woods and meadows, to the stream where they 
had sailed their little boats, to the hill where 
they had coasted in winter and gathered forget- 
me-nots in summer ; and weary, but contented, 


56 The Shepherd's Family. 

the little family sought repose. To insure more 
comfort for the others, Bernard slept that night 
in the sheep-fold, and his bed of straw being 
soft and comfortable, he was soon in a deep, 
sweet sleep. 

It was a great grief to the children .to part 
with Mansel, and tears filled their eyes at the 
thought of his loneliness when they were gone. 
Herr Baumann would have asked the baron to 
sell him to them, but was sure the request would 
be refused. Moreover, the baron avoided him, 
and that day had gone to Dresden to remain 
until after the departure of the shepherd. 

So Mansel was petted more than usual that 
evening, and lay down beside Lieschen, unaware 
that there was any thought of separation. 

Bernard had slept soundly for several hours, 
when he was aroused by the low growling of 
Cairo. 

“Hist, good dog,” whispered he, as he raised 
himself upon his elbow and listened. A wire 
screen, which covered one of the windows of 
the sheep-stall, was being slowly pushed aside, 
and he knew that some one was on the outside, 
and it could not be for any good purpose. 


Christmas at the Castle . 


57 


Cairo could be controlled no longer, but 
sprang at the window with quick, angry barks. 
Bernard followed, taking with him a hoe, to be 
used in case of necessity. 

“Hush, Cairo, don’t you know me?” said a 
low voice. “I wish I could reach you; it would 
be the last time you would bark.” 

Bernard peered anxiously through the dark- 
ness, hoping to see who it was, but could not. 
He did not recognize the voice, yet could not 
refrain from suspecting Melchor of being the 
intruder. 

After a short pause he saw that a torch was 
being put through the opening, nothing but it 
and a hand being visible. In its fall to the 
ground, where lay wisps of hay used for bed- 
ding the sheep, the flame was extinguished, 
and Bernard sprang upon the smouldering 
wood with his heavy shoes, which he had not 
removed before going to sleep. 

The hand was placed again in the window, 
and Bernard came down upon it with the edge 
of the hoe, whereupon there was a howl of 
pain, and mutterings of revenge against the 
dog who was supposed to have bitten him. 


58 The Shepherd's Family. 

Bernard heard the man descend and hurry 
off with his ladder. Then he went to the cot- 
tage and called Herr Baumann, who came 
quickly. The would-be incendiary had dropped 
his lantern, and by its light they found the 
torch. Both recognized the lantern as belong- 
ing to the castle, and both were almost con- 
vinced that the man was Melchor, yet as they 
did not see him, they could not fasten the guilt 
upon him, and therefore, would not make their 
suspicion known. 

Herr Baumann remained with Bernard tha 
balance of the night, and the next morning 
walked to the castle carrying the lantern with 
him. The first person he met was Melchor, 
who was evidently frightened at sight of him, 
and who carried his right hand in his pocket, 
refusing to remove it to shake hands with 
Baumann, who wished to bid him good-bye, but 
gave the left instead. 

Had Baumann been certain that Melchor 
was the midnight visitor, he would not have 
left the estate without putting the baron’s fam- 
ily in possession of the facts that they might 
protect themselves, but it was only suspicion 


Christmas at the Castle. 


59 


which if mentioned would subject him to great 
inconvenience, and might cause him to loose 
his situation by having to remain to await the 
trial of Melchor. 

Had he known that Melchor disappeared 
at the same hour, and was never again 
seen upon the estate, he would have gone 
to Russia more contentedly; as it was, he 
only asked for the baroness, and when he was 
shown into the castle, gave account of the ad- 
venture and left the lantern. He also ventured 
to suggest that until the baron’s return, she 
should see that some reliable person remained 
at night in the sheep-fold. 

“You are a good, honorable man,” said she, 
“ and will not give a hint as to whom you sus- 
pect, yet I think you agree with me in believ- 
ing it to be Melchor. He is sullen, and I be- 
lieve malicious, and I hope the baron will soon 
discharge him. I wish to give your children a 
token of my good opinion of them, and will 
ask you to give them this gold piece, which 
they can change and divide.” 

“You will add to your kindness, gracious 
lady, if instead of this valuable gold piece you 


60 The Shepherd's Family . 

would give them the pet lamb, Mansel. They 
are grieved at the thought of parting with it.” 

“ Certainly, they are welcome to it. Had 
they not cared for it, it would probably have 
died. But that need not prevent me from be- 
stowing the gold piece ; so pray give it for me 
to Bernard, who so faithfully guarded our sheep 
last night. 

Herr Baumann thanked her heartily, and 
bowing good-bye he hurried back to the cottage, 
where the children were overjoyed to hear that 
Mansel was to go to Bussia with them, and 
Bernard was equally pleased with his gift. An 
hour afterward they were on their way to their 
new home. , 


CHAPTER Y. 

TWO NARROW ESCAPES. 

T WO years passed away and Hans Rau- 
mann and his family had prospered in 
their new home. The nobleman was perfectly 
satisfied with his shepherd, and the contract 
between them being kept faithfully, the Rau- 
manns not only lived comfortably, but were 
laying something by for a rainy day. 

Herr Konitzer, the German steward, was a 
kind friend to them, and passed many even- 
ings in their cottage when the work for the day 
was finished. 

The children could speak very well in the 
Russian tongue, particularly Bernard, who had 
great talent for languages, a gift which was a 
great pleasure to him in after life. 

The parents were slower in learning, for they 
could converse with their family and Herr 
Konitzer in their beloved German, and when 
compelled to converse with’ Russians some one 


61 


62 The Shepherd's Family. 

of the children was generally present to act as 
interpreter; yet, by dint of words they knew, 
and by signs, they could make themselves 
understood when occasion demanded that they 
should depend upon themselves. 

Christopher helped Bernard with the sheep, 
the girls helped their mother in her household 
duties, and little Kathie was the light of the 
house. Cairo was his useful self, and Mansel 
had grown to be a splendid sheep, with two 
great horns, and with long silky wool such as 
no Bussian sheep could boast. He came of a 
noted stock of sheep, and the shepherd was 
several times offered three hundred silver rubles 

for him. 

* 

In every way the change of a home had been 
of advantage, and Herr Baumann was grateful 
to his Heavenly Father for his great goodness 
to them. 

One morning he was out with the sheep 
when the steward came toward him accom- 
panied by Count Boutnieff, the owner of the 
estate. They were on horseback, and the 
steward was leading a horse. 

“Good Baumann,” said he, “this is our 


63 


Two Narrow Escapes. 

Herr Count; lie wishes to inspect the herd, 
and I have brought a horse that you may ac- 
company us.” 

The shepherd obeyed, and they rode from 
one meadow to another, and found the sheep 
in fine condition, the herdsmen near, and at- 
tentive to their duties. 

The count engaged the shepherd in conver- 
sation upon sheep and sheep-raising, and was 
much pleased with his intelligent remarks, and 
expressed his pleasure in seeing the improve- 
ment he had made in accommodations for them 
in the stalls. 

The steward then accompanied the count to 
other parts of the estate, and Raumann re- 
turned to his work, halting on his way to 
notice particularly a herd in one of the fields. 

“Rawalsk,” said he to the herdsman in 
charge, “there are two sheep missing from 
your herd; a mother sheep and her lamb. 
Why have you not reported the loss? AVhere 
are they ? ” 

“A wolf dragged them away.” 

“How? A wolf dragged away two sheep at> 
one time ? How is that possible ? 


64 The Shepherd's Family . 

“Herr Shepherd, you have no idea of the 
strength of our wolves, nor their cunning. 
Quick as thought that wolf dragged the lamb 
to a hiding-place, and before I could prevent it, 
dragged away the mother sheep that had run 
to protect her lamb.” 

As soon as the steward returned, the shep- 
herd reported the loss. 

“Bawalsk is the wolf,” was the reply, “come 
with me to his cottage, and I will prove 
it.” 

Herr Baumann again mounted his horse, and 
they set out. There was great distress in the 
herdsman’s family when the steward found the 
skins of the two sheep and part of the meat, 
for they knew that the punishment would be 
twenty lashes of the knout upon his bared back 
in the presence of all the herdsmen and ser- 
vants upon the estate. 

That evening when the herds were in the fold 
was the time set for the punishment. It was a 
terrible trial to the tender heart of the shep- 
herd to see the suffering of the wretched man, 
the two Bussians who inflicted the punishment 
plying the lash with as much energy as though 


Two Narrow Escapes, 65 

the offender was a bitter enemy instead of one 
of their associates. 

None of the Raumann children were allowed 
to be present. Frau Raumann sent salve and 
some soft old linen to the cottage, well know- 
ing they would be needed, and devoutly hop- 
ing that nothing of the kind would again hap- 
pen while her husband was shepherd upon the 
estate. She was glad that Rawalsk showed no 
resentment against her husband, and in a few 
days he seemed to have forgotten the affair. 

Thus the season passed happily by, and one 
day in the latter part of November, Bernard 
harnessed Cairo to a small sled to take little 
Kathie over the snow to the house of the Stew- 
ard Konitzer, about a quarter of a mile away. 

Kathie had a charming time with the chil- 
dren, and wished to stay longer, but it was 
sunset, and Bernard set her on the sled, and, 
in order to make it easier for Cairo, pushed 
the light burden, chatting to Kathie as they 
flew along. 

They were scarcely out of sight of the 
steward’s dwelling when Cairo stopped, put 
up his ears, listened, and then started across 


66 The Shepherd's Family. 

a field in another direction from their home at 
snch a swift pace that Bernard lost his hold 
upon the sled and rolled over in the snow. 
When he regained his footing, he saw that 
Cairo had stopped in a field where there were 
large stacks of corn fodder, and was trembling 
with excitement. His first thought was that 
the dog had gone suddenly mad, and he hur- 
ried forward to protect little Kathie. It was 
but the work of a moment to drag her from 
the sled and toss her to the top of the nearest 
stack, making believe that it was playing, 
that she might not be frightened. As he 
turned to look at Cairo, before springing out 
of danger, he saw his eyes were fixed upon a 
moving figure, that of a wolf, which was com- 
ing stealthily toward them. Bernard realized 
their danger, but his nerves were not so shaken as 
when he imagined that Cairo was suffering from 
hydrophobia. He quickly released the faithful 
animal from the sled, which he threw upon the 
stack, climbed up himself, and whistled to 
Cairo to follow. He was just in time. The 
wolf had reached the stack, placed his fore-feet 
upon it, and snapped at the retreating prey. 


Two Narrow Escapes. 67 

Again and again it changed its place of attack, 
uttering sharp barks. Kathie became fright- 
ened and began to cry. Bernard had no time 
to comfort her, his whole strength and energy 
being employed in beating back the foe with 
his sled. Cairo did his share, snapping at the 
nose and feet of the wolf, sometimes holding 
on them so long that Bernard feared he would 
be dragged from his perch. The eyes of the 
beast glowed like coals of fire through the 
darkness, and Bernard feared that the com- 
motion upon the stack would cause it to give 
away, and then there would be no help for 
them. He hallooed for help whenever the wolf 
gave him the chance to do so, and hoped that 
some one going to or from the neighboring 
village of Alexandrowka would hear him, and 
come to their relief. He was distressed that 
he missed his aim so often, and feared his 
blows, when he did hit the wolf, were without 
result. 

“I thought I was in a miserable condition 
when in the lock-up in Saxony,” thought he, 
“but it was nothing in comparison with this.” 
The thought of Kathie’s tender flesh being 


68 The Shepherd's Family . 

torn by the terrible fangs of the wolf armed 
him with the strength of desperation as he 
struck again and again at the savage animal. 

The sled snapped into pieces, and nothing 
was left in his hand but one of the iron run- 
ners, the rest falling at the foot of the stack, 
causing the wolf for a moment to cease the at- 
tack. Bernard utilized the time by shouting 
at the top of his voice, and, to his joy, his 
clear, strong tones were heard and answered. 
He heard the sound of footsteps, saw the flash 
of lanterns, recognized the voices of Herr Ko- 
nitzer, Hans Raumann, and one of the herds- 
men who was carrying torches, and then sank 
senseless upon the stack. 

Cairo kept up his barking, which guided the 
hunters to the spot ; a pistol-shot finished the 
wolf, and little Kathie was carried by the 
happy, grateful Hans Raumann and placed in 
the arms of her mother, while Herr Konitzer 
and the herdsman attended to Bernard, who 
soon revived. All accompanied him to the cot- 
tage, where he told all his fearful experience. 

The Raumann family had become anxious 
when it began to grow dark and Bernard and 


69 


The Narrow Escape. 

Kathie had not returned, so Hans walked to 
the dwelling of the steward to accompany them 
home. To his great anxiety, he found they 
had left some time before, and then he and 
Herr Konitzer armed themselves for the 
search. 

Praises to God for his great goodness in 
sparing the lives of Bernard and Kathie as- 
cended that night from grateful hearts, for they 
had been mercifully preserved from a terrible 
death. 

It was the custom to keep many , dogs in the 
village of Alexandrowka to prevent wolves, be- 
ing driven by hunger, coming too near, in 
which case the dogs gave the alarm. Like 
birds when a night-hawk comes among them, 
they scented danger, and confusion reigned 
among them. 

Cairo, too, was always to be depended upon, 
and when he seemed restless and excited, the 
sheep-fold was guarded more carefully than 
usual. 

As the winter advanced, the wolves, raven- 
ous from hunger, came so near the sheep-fold 
that Herr Baumann resolved to dig a pit for 


70 The Shepherd's Family. 

their capture near the door leading from the 
stalls to the meadows. 

With the help of the herdsmen he dug a 
deep, square hole, and placed over it a trap- 
door supported by a prop. The weight of a 
wolf upon it would cause it to fall, and drop 
its burden into the pit, and by means of a 
spring the trap -door would resume its original 
position. 

At the same time the villagers were making 
a wolf-trap upon a larger scale. In a field 
near Alexandrowka great stakes were driven 
in the ground in the form of a hollow square. 
This was finished with a high fence of lattice- 
work and a door. Outside of this was another 
lattice-work, allowing a narrow path between 
it and the other. In it was also a door, 
loosely hung that it might open easily in, but 
would not open out. When the trap was 
finished a sheep was taken from the herd of 
Hans Eaumann and placed in the inner in- 
closure, where its bleatings would be sure to 
attract the wolves. 

The Baumann children were grieved to hear 
it, and tears filled their eyes. 


71 


Two Narrow Escapes. 

“Do not be anxious,” said their father, “it 
will not be hurt. The wolf cannot reach it; 
but by its help we hope to save the other 
sheep.” 

As dark came on the bleating of the lonely 
sheep attracted the attention of a wolf that 
was prowling about. It came near, sniffed at 
the lattice-work, walked around the enclosure 
several times, found the entrance, pushed it 
with his nose and was inside; but really no 
nearer capturing the sheep than before. In a 
short time another wolf made its appearance 
and became a prisoner, and by daylight there 
were five securely fastened. Before the morn- 
ing sun shone through the lattice Hans Bau- 
mann headed a party of the villagers, who 
quickly dispatched them, whereupon there was 
great rejoicing that so many of the enemies 
of the innocent sheep would never trouble 
them again. 

Bolder grew the wolves as the snow lay 
long upon the ground. One night Hans Bau- 
mann, Bernard, and a herdsman named Uma- 
roff, went to a trap which they had set near 
the forest. It was a log cabin in a field near 


72 The Shepherd's Family. 

the forest, in one side of which Umaroff had 
made a sliding door which could be opened 
and shut by means of a rope. He took with 
him a dead sheep and placed it inside the 
cabin, then all mounted to the roof, through 
the crevices of which they could view what 
should take place below. They had waited 
but a short time when they saw a wolf creep- 
ing stealthily toward the opening. He looked 
about him suspiciously, listening, while the 
three upon the roof kept perfectly silent. 
After awhile he trotted off. 

“He is only a scout,” said Umaroff; “he 
will be back soon and bring others with him.” 

He was correct in this, for in a short time 
they saw the wolf coming, and with him sev- 
eral young wolves. They came through the 
opening and commenced feeding upon the 
sheep, when Umaroff pulled the string, the 
sliding door closed, and the wolves were pris- 
oners. The men prevented them from ever 
again attacking live sheep, by firing upon them 
through the crevices in the roof, and before 
daylight returned to their homes. 

The shepherd had left two herdsmen to 


73 


Two Narrow Escapes . 

watch the sheep-fold that night, and as he and 
Bernard drew near, they saw a man enter the 
main door of the stalls, and wondered who he 
was and what his errand. 

They found the two watchers sound asleep, 
and with no knowledge of any person but 
themselves being in since the shepherd left. A 
thorough search was made, and in passing that 
part of the fold nearest the wolf-pit, they heard 
groans and cries as though some one were suf- 
fering great pain. They went to the door which 
led to it, and found the bolt withdrawn. 

“The man we saw has rushed through here 
when he saw us coming, and has fallen into the 
pit,” said Herr Baumann, and they hurried 
forward and opened the trap-door. 

It was too true, and while he held the lan- 
terns, Bernard kept open the trap-door, and the 
two herdsmen descended by means of a ladder 
and brought up the wounded man. 

It proved to be Bawalsk. His legs were 
broken, and he was otherwise injured so badly 
that they feared he would die. In his pocket 
they found flint, steel, and tinder ; and Hans 
Baumann had no doubt but that he had come 
there to fire the sheep-fold. 


74 The Shepherd's Family. 

“Oh! forgive me, forgive me,” said the 
wretched man, when, after tenderly conveying 
him to his home, Herr Raumann sat down be- 
side him, while the poor frightened wife of 
Rawalsk sent for a physician. “I was intend- 
ing doing a wicked deed to avenge myself 
against yon.” 

“I forgive yon,” said the shepherd, “bnt ask 
God, whom yon more deeply offended, to par- 
don you,” and kneeling by the bedside he 
prayed for the suffering man. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON. 

HE physician who lived in Alexandrowka 



1 came promptly, set the broken limbs, and 
gave Rawalsk a mixture to soothe his pain. 
But through the balance of the winter and the 
months of spring he lay in bed unable to help 
himself. 

Herr Raumann and his family did all they 
nould to help the poor people in their affliction. 
Night after night the shepherd went to watch 
beside the sick bed, and never went empty- 
handed. In that poor cottage anything in the 
shape of food or clothing was welcome, and the 
Raumanns gave freely of their store. More 
than all, Herr Raumann in the still watches of 
the night talked to the poor ignorant herds- 
man, giving him the comfort of God’s promises 
to those who believe, and in time Rawalsk 
learned to love the dear Saviour who had died 
that he might live. 


75 


76 


The Shepherd's Family. 


Bawalsk had only escaped banishment to 
Siberia for the offence against the count’s 
sheep by being too lame to move except upon 
crutches, and with no prospect of ever being 
able to use his limbs again. He deeply deplored 
his past wickedness, and Herr Baumann be- 
lieved him to be sincere. 

The summer that followed — that of 1812 — 
was a happy one in the Baumann cottage, for 
they were all well, and prospering in every 
way. There was but one cloud in the bright- 
ness of their lives, and that was shared by all 
the Bussians. Napoleon Bonaparte, first a 
cadet, then lieutenant, captain, general, consul, 
and emperor of the French, and king of Italy, 
had waged war against Bussia, and with a 
large army of French soldiers entered Poland 
and established a government. On their way 
there they had been strengthened by German 
soldiers, and with an immense army they 
marched toward Moscow. But on September 
10, before reaching there, the battle of Boro- 
dina was fought, and sixty thousand lives were 
lost. 

The governor of Moscow — Count Bostop- 


The Emperor Napoleon. 77 

chin — hearing that Napoleon was pressing on 
to the city, gave orders that it should be given 
to the flames rather than allow it to fall into 
the hands of the French ; and ordered that all 
prison doors be opened and the prisoners set 
free on condition of their promising to fire the 
city in every quarter. 

The Kaumann family in their quiet cottage 
saw the glare of the burning city, and trembled 
for their own safety; for they knew that their 
home lay upon the route to Moscow, and that 
the French army was on the way there. All 
the Russians, except old men, women and 
children, had gone to the defence of their 
country, Konitzer and Raumann being exempt 
because they were foreigners. 

The hatred of Count BoutniefF against the 
French was so great, that he ordered the hay, 
and grain, and food of every kind for the sheep 
and other animals upon the estate to be stacked 
near the sheep-stalls ; and in case of attack it 
was to be fired and consumed rather than have 
it and the sheep fall into the hands of the 
French. Therefore, in obedience to this order, 
all the men on the estate had been thus em- 


78 The Shepherd's Family . 

ployed until the threatened attack upon Moscow 
called them away, and immense stacks of grain 
and hay were piled about the sheep-pens. 

Herr Baumann was much distressed at this 
state of affairs ; his heart ached for the poor 
animals, particularly the innocent sheep, which 
knew and loved him. The count, on his part, 
had fears that his German shepherd and stew- 
ard did not share his enmity toward the 
French, and if the time came, would not obey 
his orders ; but rather than destroy the sheep 
and other animals and the food for them, 
would allow them to be taken. To be certain 
that he would not be disobeyed, he sent an old 
body-servant (Bolitzky) to oversee matters, 
and report whether arrangements had been 
made for the conflagration. 

In Bussia there are deep pits dug in fields 
for the storing of overplus grain, and in the 
fields near Alexandrowka there were many 
such pits. They had clay floors, were dry, 
and there would be ample time to fill them be- 
fore the enemy could reach there. 

Konitzer and Baumann begged Bolitzky to 
allow them to have them filled, but he feared. 


The Emperor Napoleon. 7& 

treachery on their part, and knowing that the 
count preferred having all destroyed rather 
than that any fall into the enemy’s hands, re- 
fused. They then suggested that the animals 
be driven more inland, but that, too, was re- 
fused, Rolitzky saying that the French would 
ravage the whole of Russia, and no place was 
secure from them. So nothing remained for 
Baumann but to await results. In the mean- 
time he had been planning ways and means of 
protecting his family and property in case the 
French made a sudden rush in that direction,, 
and it was decided that Frau Baumann and 
the children should, at the first sound of an at- 
tack, go to the forest, and in a cave, which 
Herr Baumann had cleared of rubbish and 
made as comfortable as possible, remain until 
the enemy had passed. Bernard was to 
secrete their own little herd of sheep near it, 
and a grain pit was stocked with their property 
and provisions. 

“Father,” said Christopher, that evening 
(they had been watching Moscow burning in 
the distance), “ who is Napoleon Bonaparte,, 
and where did he come from ? ” 


80 The Shepherd's T amity. 

“ He is Emperor of France and . King of 
Italy; was born on the island of Corsica Au- 
gust 15, 1769, so is something over forty-three 
years of age.” 

“Was he trained for a soldier, uncle?” 
questioned Bernard. 

“ Yes ; he went to a military school at 
Brienne, in France, when he was only ten 
years of age, and remained until he was fifteen, 
and then went to another military school in 
Paris.” 

“How long did he stay in school, father?” 

“Until he was twenty; but his military life 
had commenced three years before, when, after 
a brilliant examination, he had been appointed 
second lieutenant in the regiment of artillery 
La Fere ; but he was not in any engagement 
until his return to Corsica, when a war broke 
out between the adherents of the Corsican 
patriot Paoli and those of the young French 
leader Napoleon. Paoli went so far as to at- 
tempt the lives of the Bonaparte family, but 
Napoleon conducted them safely to France. 

“In 1793 he went to Nice, where he was 
made captain of the fourth regiment of artillery, 


81 


The Emperor Napoleon. 

and in 1794 was made a general of brigade. 
In 1796 be married Josephine, and partly 
through her influence was appointed to the 
command of the army of Italy.” 

“Was it then that he got the name of ‘The 
Little Corporal’?” questioned Bernard. 

“Yes, it was during that year, and in battle 
against the Austrians. On May 10 he made 
the terrible passage of the bridge of Lodi at 
the head of his grenadiers, amid a storm of 
grape-shot, and routed the Austrians with 
great slaughter. For this the French soldiers 
gave their commander the name of ‘The Little 
Corporal.’ ” 

“Did he keep on fighting after that?” in- 
quired Annamarie. 

“ Yes, it would take some time to tell you of 
all the battles he fought, and the terrible loss 
of blood which accompanied his victories. In 
June, 1800, he led a great army over the Alps, 
beat the Austrians in the noted battle of Ma- 
rengo, and by that and former victories, be- 
came master of Italy ; and on May 29, 1804, he 
was crowned king, and his Empress Josephine, 
queen, by the Pope of Rome, Pius YIII.” 


6 


82 


The Shepherd's Family. 

“He was a great man,” said Christopher, 
thoughtfully; but, father, is it right to fight as 
he did, and allow so many people to be killed? ” 

“No; it was not right in Napoleon, for he 
did it only for conquest, and for his own glory 
and that of France. It is right to fight to save 
one’s country from destruction, and to save 
one’s home and loved ones, but Napoleon 
fought for conquest; and when he conquered 
new countries he placed his brothers upon the 
thrones. He placed the crown of Naples upon 
the head of his brother Joseph, that of West- 
phalia on Jerome, and Holland was bestowed 
upon Louis. Then he sent eighty thousand 
men into Spain, seized all the strong places, 
dethroned the king, Charles IV., took posses- 
sion of the capital, and made his brother 
Joseph king, transferring the crown of Naples 
to his brother-in-law Murat.” 

“Had he any little girls, father?” piped 
Kathie. 

“No, 'dear; he had no children then. In 
1809 Austria concluded to bring war against 
France, and Napoleon, at the head of his 
troops, again entered the Austrian capital, beat 


The Emperor Napoleon . 83 

the Austrians in the battle of Wagram, and 
concluded a peace. So much glory made him 
ambitious for more, and, for political reasons, 
he divorced himself from his beloved wife 
Josephine, who loved him tenderly, and mar- 
ried Marie Louisa, an Austrian arch-duchess, 
daughter of the Francis I. whom he had 
beaten in war the year before. They have a 
little son, born in 1810, who is named Napo- 
leon Francis Charles Joseph, and his title is 
King of Rome. Napoleon hopes to have great 
possessions to give him, over which he will be 
King ; but God is not unmindful of the wrongs 
he does in causing the shedding of so much 
blood for his own glory ; he will surely punish 
him by bringing about his downfall, for his 
battles have not been for the right and to pro- 
tect the defenceless, but for conquest.” 

“ But, father, other people fight ; think of all 
the soldiers ; they must believe as he does,” 
said Christopher. 

“ My son, suppose our master, Count Bout- 
nieff, coveted a fine estate belonging to a noble- 
man in another province, and commanded that 
all whom he employed upon his estates should 


84 The Shepherd's Family . 

follow him to fight the other nobleman and his 
men, and gain possession of it. Our men 
might not think it right, but they would follow 
him. And so it is with many of the soldiers of 
Napoleon ; they have come to Russia because 
they are commanded to come ; and God alone 
knows what will be the result.” 

Two or three days passed away after the 
burning of Moscow, and the shepherd’s family 
had seen or heard nothing of the French, but 
the country was in such a terribly unsettled 
condition that they feared to lie down at night 
in peace, not knowing at what moment they 
would have to flee from their cottage. They 
lay down with their clothing on, and with large 
baskets of food to take with them to the forest. 
On the third night they heard the cry, “ The 
French ! the French ! They are coining ; 
hurry and save yourselves.” They knew not 
from whence the sound came, but, pale as the 
dead, Herr Raumann and his wife sprang up. 
Bernard ran to take his sheep to the forest, 
Frau Raumann and the children, carrying their 
provisions and all else that they could burden 
themselves with, hurried after him, and the 


85 


The Emperor Napoleon. 

shepherd hastened to the stalls, resolved to 
open the doors of the sheep pens and let the 
sheep have a chance for their lives. On the 
way he heard the fading of a stick or some- 
thing of the kind, and turning suddenly, he 
saw a figure crouching under the shadow of a 
knarled plum tree. It was the criople Ra- 
walsk. 

“ Oh ! Herr Shepherd ! ” said he, trembling 
with excitement ; “ I came and gave you warn- 
ing that the French are upon us. Some of 
your countrymen are among them ; beg them 
to spare a poor cripple like me.” 

At that instant a glare of light came from the 
hay and straw about the sheep-stable. 

“ I did it! ” cried Rawalsk, clapping his hands 
with joy; “you would not do it, to save them 
from the French. You love your sheep, but I 
hate the French. Death, death to the French ! ” 

Raumann had not heard the half of this. 
He had sped to the sheep-stalls, and, at the 
risk of his life, opened the doors and called the 
frightened creatures. Some followed his well- 
known call, but others were too benumbed by 
fright, and he had to leave them to their fate. 


86 The Shepherd's Family. 

As lie turned to flee from the terrible heat he 
looked toward Alexandrowka, and saw it in 
flames, and the steady tramp of thousands of 
armed men proved that the enemy would in a 
few minutes be in view. He looked for Ra- 
walsk, but he was not to be seen, then ran to 
his cottage to see that his family had escaped, 
and found it crowded with French soldiers. 


/ 


CHAPTEE VII. 


PRISONERS OF WAR. 

NLY that morning Herr Baumann had 



V been the happy possessor of a good 
wife, loving and obedient children, a com- 
fortable home, and other property about him. 
War had robbed him of all, and with it his 
freedom, for the French had taken him pris- 
oner. His warm, comfortable clothes had been 
taken from him by one of the soldiers, and a 
worn, ragged suit given him, so his appearance 
was much changed. He had been hurried 
along by the army, and was faint from weari- 
ness and hunger. His employer’s estate could 
not have been recognized ; the buildings in 
ruins, the fields and trees blackened from fire, 
the animals destroyed, the inhabitants fled, no 
one knew whither. 

The army at length came to a v halt to cook 
the sheep they had secured on the count’s 
estate, and Raumann sat down upon a rock 
and looked about him. Far and near were 


87 


88 The Shepherd's Family. 

groups of soldiers resting, some jesting, others 
in no humor for it. It seemed days to Rau- 
mann since he had left his cottage, so bewil- 
dered and benumbed was his brain over the 
great change from his peaceful manner of living. 

The honor of being in the company of the 
great Napoleon could not compensate Bau- 
mann for his losses ; and as he looked upon the 
man of whom he had heard so much, scanned 
the straight features, the broad forehead, the 
searching eyes, he wondered what were the 
thoughts in the scheming brain of the man who 
with pale face looked dreamily toward the 
ruins of Moscow in the distance. 

“It is much easier to tear down than to 
build,” thought Herr Raumann, “ easier to de- 
stroy than to create. To not one of those poor 
sheep even can the great Bonaparte give the 
breath of life ; to kill is the most that he can do.” 

At that moment a soldier came toward him, 
and giving him a knock with his bayonet 
spoke in broken Russian, but which Raumann 
managed to understand. 

“See here, man, we have killed twenty of 
the sheep and have them in the kettles over 


Prisoners of War. 89 

the fires. Why don’t you stir about and find 
something for the remaining ones to eat?” 

Glad of the chance to do something for the 
poor animals, the shepherd rose immediately 
and calling the sheep together he gathered wisps 
of hay, and any other food that they would eat, 
all the time talking to them in his soothing 
voice. He seemed to regain something of his 
old cheerfulness as the affectionate animals 
crowded about him ; and in spite of his anxiety 
for his home and loved ones Herr Baumann 
began to feel the pangs of hunger, and longed 
for some of the meat boiling and bubbling in 
the great kettles. Groups of soldiers were 
scattered thickly about them, waiting impatiently 
for the moment when the cooks would give 
them the word that it was sufficiently cooked 
to be eatable. 

At length the welcome summons came and 
there was a scramble and rush ; and the shep- 
herd saw he would be overlooked unless he 
made an effort for himself. 

He made his way to one of the kettles, and 
near it saw two of the sheep-skins lying upon 
the ground and asked for them, saying he was 
cold. 


90 


The Shepherd's Family . 

“I thought Russians never felt the cold,” 
remarked one of the soldiers, “but you can 
have the skins.” 

“I am no Russian,” replied the shepherd, 
“ I came from Saxony.” 

“From Saxony! Comrade, give me your 
hand! You shall have something to eat ;” and 
thrusting the point of his bayonet in the kettle 
he took out a large piece and presented it to 
the shepherd. 

Raumann took it, tossing it from one cold 
hand to the other until he reached the trunk 
of a fallen tree, where he sat down, and with 
his pocket-knife, which the soldier who robbed 
him of his clothes had been generous enough 
to leave with him, having one of his own, he 
cut it in two. 

Near him was a group of about one hundred 
men, whom he recognized as Russians, and 
prisoners of war; hungry, homeless, and mis- 
erable. 

Raumann was about to eat, when his atten- 
tion was attracted to one of them, whose eyes 
were cast to the ground; he was motionless, 
the very picture of despair. He was hatless 


91 


Prisoners of War. 

and shoeless, clothed in rags, and as his bowed 
head exposed his neck to view, the shepherd 
noticed that it was white and smooth, as 
though its owner had never been exposed to 
any inclemencies of weather. 

“ Merciful heaven, it is Count Boutnieff, my 
honored master!” cried Baumann, and rising 
hastily he went to speak to him. 

“Oh, gracious Herr Count!” said he, in a 
tone of the tenderest sympathy, “have you, too, 
fallen into the hands of the French? Are you 
hungry? Here, take my piece of meat, both 
pieces. And here is a sheep-skin,” continued 
he, taking it from his shoulders, “it is from 
your own herd, gracious Herr, therefore you 
have the best right to it.” 

The count looked up in his face in sur- 
prise. 

“Who are you,” said he, “how is it you 
know me ? ” 

“ Gracious Herr, I am Baumann, your shep- 
herd. No wonder you do not know me in 
these French soldiers’ clothes ; one of the men 
took my warm ones and put these rags upon 
me. 


92 The Shepherd's Family. 

“ How came you liere, are you in league with 
the enemy? ” 

“No, only as they forced me. I wish I 
could have stayed in my comfortable home, 
near Alexandrowka, with my wife and chil- 
dren, and my sheep. I am a prisoner, like 
yourself.” 

“Why do they take you? You have not 
been a soldier since coming to Russia?” 

“They dragged me with them, because the 
sheep would follow me, and they would not 
have the trouble of driving them.” 

“ The sheep ! Whose sheep ? ” 

“Yours, Herr Count. The greater part of 
them were burned to death, but some were 
saved, and they are eating them. They gave 
me this meat. Take it, dear Herr Count, I will 
do without — I ” 

“Out of my sight, you traitor!” cried the 
count, in a tempest of rage. “You did not 
obey my orders; you are in league with the 
enemies of Russia.” 

The shepherd stood with open mouth, gazing 
at the count in astonishment. 

“Did I not command you to set fire to the 


93 


Prisoners of War. 

stacks and destroy the sheep with your own 
hands, rather than let them go to feed the 
enemies of my country ? I believed you to be 
a traitor to the country that has given you a 
good home, and now I am sure of it. Out of 
my sight before I fell you to the earth! ” 

Baumann stepped back quickly, dropping 
the meat, which was seized and devoured ra- 
venously by a hungry and less embittered 
Russian. 

‘‘Could anybody believe that a man half- 
starved, as he is, would scorn to take food?” 
thought Baumann, as he returned to his place. 
“He should know that it was not to aid the 
French, but because my heart bled for the in- 
nocent sheep, that I let them out, hoping they 
would run to the woods and not be found by 
the enemy. He would not give me time to ex- 
plain.” 

Night came on, and the shepherd’s hunger 
was allayed by sleep, which was rendered 
comparatively comfortable by the help of the 
sheep-skins, while Count Boutnieff never closed 
his eyes, but in sullen and despairing pride 
brooded over his losses and his hatred of the 
French. 


94 The Shepherd's Family. 

The next day he saw the rest of the sheep 
slaughtered, and Baumann was thus left with- 
out employment ; but he was a prisoner of war, 
and they would not let him go, fearing that he 
would betray the strength of the French army 
to the Bussians. 

The poor prisoners fared badly, for there 
was but little preparation made for the cam- 
paign in regard to provisions, the invaders de- 
pending upon what they could take from the 
inhabitants ; but as many owners of property 
preferred destroying it to having it fall into the 
hands of the French, the soldiers were often 
suffering from hunger, and had no food to 
spare for prisoners, who after a time became 
too weak and ill to walk, and many of them 
were left by the roadside to die. 

Thus it happened that Baumann, who, not 
being an important prisoner, was allowed to be 
with the stragglers at the rear of the army, 
stepped upon a Bussian prisoner who had 
sunk down from exhaustion. It was a mystery 
to the shepherd how he had escaped death 
from the hoofs of the horses, and his glance 
of sympathy was the only one cast upon the 


95 


Prisoners of War. 

prostrate man, who, bruised, bleeding, and cov- 
ered with the dust of the road, lay unconscious. 
Eaumann picked him up, and half carried, half 
dragged him to the side of the road, and when 
his face was exposed to view, found it to be 
that of Count Boutnieff. 

Oh ! the great change that war had brought 
to the handsome and distinguished courtier ! 
Gone were the richly gold-laced robes ; gone 
the costly insignia of the many orders that 
once crossed his proud breast ! He, the noble 
gentleman, the wealthy land-owner, the kind 
and generous employer, was in a worse condi- 
tion than had ever been the meanest hireling 
upon his estates, and Baumann’s heart ached 
for him in his misfortunes. He was bending 
over the sick man, when a bullet from the gun 
of a French soldier grazed his cheek. It was a 
mere scratch, but Baumann had presence of 
mind to drop down as though mortally wounded. 

“ There is one less to feed in the world,” 
said the Frenchman to himself, as they marched 
on, for they had called to Baumann to come 
back, and he had not heeded. 

It was with intense joy that Baumann realized 


96 The Shepherd's Family . 

that he was free, but he laid perfectly still 
until they were out of sight, and then arose to 
wait upon the count. He rejoiced that he had 
kept the bottle of water dropped by one of the 
soldiers, and now applied some of it to the 
parched lips of the sick man, who drank 
eagerly. Emboldened by this, Raumann wrap- 
ped the skeep-skins about him, and then 
looked about for more comfortable quarters 
than the hard and cold ground. He remem- 
bered that an ammunition wagon had lost a 
wheel a short distance back, and was aban- 
doned. With much struggling and hard work, 
in his weak condition he succeeded in dragging 
it to one side, then came and carried the count 
and placed him within upon a bed of leaves he 
had provided. This done, he searched about, 
hoping to find something to eat, but without 
success ; and he resolved to walk a mile or 
more back, where a horse had been left to die, 
having been too wounded to travel farther. 
He took with him a tin can, found in the road, 
and reaching the spot, found the horse dead, 
and, with his pocket-knife, cut out a quantity 
of the best pieces, filled his can, and carried an 


97 


Prisoners of War. 

armful back to the wagon. He was glad they 
were near a running brook, that he might have 
water to extinguish his fire in case of surprise. 
He soon had a clear flame, and placing over it 
his can with some water and the meat chipped 
in small pieces for soup for the count, he held a 
piece over the blaze to broil for himself. 

In former days he never thought the time 
would come when he could force himself to eat 
such food, but hunger knows no law ; and be- 
fore it was more than half cooked he ate it, and 
thanked God that, through it, he would not die 
of starvation. He took the soup from the fire 
as soon as it was at all fit to eat, cooled it, and 
gave some to the count, who took it eagerly ; 
then he crawled into the wagon, and, lying 
down beside him, they both slept until morn- 
ing. 

Four days and nights Kaumann waited faith- 
fully upon the count, and, save for his anxiety 
for his family, was not so miserable as one 
might suppose, for he was doing the duty 
nearest his hand, and had faith that God would 
open a way for him to return to his loved ones. 

On the afternoon of the fifth day they were 


7 


98 The Shepherd's Family . 

out of food, and Raumann left the count to 
search the woods in hope of finding something 
they could eat. He walked some distance, but 
found nothing, and, weary and discouraged, 
was about returning, when he heard the mea- 
sured tramp of soldiers. He withdrew into a 
place of concealment until they passed, and 
when he reached the wagon, after several 
hours’ absence, he found it empty ; the count 
had disappeared. The shepherd stood for 
some time in dumb surprise, and then bent his 
steps to Alexandrowka. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

RETURNING GOOD FOR EVIL . 
APOLEON and his army remained for 



I >| several weeks in the once beautiful city 
of Moscow, and then beat a retreat ; the strong 
measures of the governor having saved the 
Russian Empire by depriving him of resources. 

Suffering hunger and privation of every kind, 
in the bitter cold of a Russian winter, they set 
out for France, the infuriated Cossacks follow- 
ing, and killing and wounding as many as they 
could all the way to Poland. 

On their route was the deserted abbey of 
Kolotskoi, and many of the wounded were 
placed in wagons to be left there, surgeons be- 
ing present to dress their wounds. 

“Here, Wagoner!” cried an officer riding 
back and reining up near a substantial wagon 
in which sat a rough-looking German ; “ there 
is a young officer lying wounded a piece further 
on ; hurry up and take him to the abbey.” 

7 99 


100 The Shepherd's Family . 

The man obeyed, but without evincing any 
good will in the matter, and as soon as the 
officer rode away he resumed his former gait un- 
til reaching the wounded one. “ Oh ! good Mel- 
chor, is it you?” said a weak voice, “how 
thankful I am that I am to be in your wagon. 
Oh ! that we were back in our dear home in Ger- 
many, where my father would richly reward 
you for your care of me.” 

Melchor, who had been pressed into the ser- 
vice of an officer who had been killed, was now 
his own man, and was thinking more of the 
valuables he had taken from the wounded and 
dead upon the battle-field than to prospective 
riches. 

“Truly, Herr Baron Baldwin, you have a 
better memory than I, for had you not 
spoken I would not have known you. Yes, 
yes, the times have changed, and you are 
not so proud and high-spirited as you once 
were. I hear your promises, but know well 
how much to depend on rich people’s words 
Take your hand from the wheel of my wagon, 
or you will be sorry for it. Good-day, Herr 
Baron, tell your father I have not forgotten the 


Returning Good for Evil. 101 

time lie broke his cane over my back ; and you 
are faring better than you deserye, that I do 
not finish you;” and touching whip to the 
horse he drove away. 

“Oh! heavenly Father, I am forsaken!” 
moaned the poor boy. “ I am left here to die 
in the bitter cold.” 

The wagon of Melchor had gone but a short 
distance when another drove rapidly up, and 
Baldwin hoped that some one had come for 
him, or that Melchor had repented of his cru- 
elty and returned. Instead, the two wounded 
soldiers it contained were thrown out, and fell 
heavily upon the frozen ground, and the 
wagoner drove away. 

Baldwin saw how hopeless was his chance 
for relief, and sank into unconsciousness ; and 
when he again realized where he was, it was 
growing dark. He thought in that bitter mo- 
ment of his home, which at that hour was 
bright with light and warmth. 

He could, in memory, see his mother pouring 
the tea from the silver urn, see his father and 
sister, and wondered if they could imagine the 
desperate condition in which he was placed. 


102 The Shepherd's Family . 

“O mother, dear mother, I shall never see 
you again!” he cried, in an abandonment of 
despair. 

“Baldwin! Cousin Baldwin!” said a weak 
voice at his side, “ have we been thrown here 
to die together ? ” 

“O Benno!” cried the young baron, joy- 
fully, “ what happiness it is to hear your voice. 
But are you wounded, Benno?” 

“ Yes, below the knee, so that I cannot walk, 
and the wretches hurt me dreadfully in throw- 
ing me from the wagon ; my companion I think 
is dead ; he has not moved since being thrown 
upon the hard ground.” 

“But, dear Benno, there is no help for us. 
I am wounded in the side, and when I move it 
bleeds. If we were only in the abbey our 
wounds could be dressed, but we can never 
reach there.” 

“You must be helped, Baldwin, you have 
much to live for. I have no mother, no father, 
no sister, no home; if I die there will be but 
few to grieve for me ; but you must be saved if 
possible.” 

“But it is not possible, dear Benno, for you 


103 


Returning Good for Evil. 

see that we are neglected here, although we 
are lieutenants.” 

“Baldwin, do you remember when we were 
children, and afterwards at the military school, 
I carried you on my back to prove that I was 
so much the stronger? Now I am determined 
that you shall reach the abbey, so will crawl 
there upon my hands and knees, and with you 
upon my back.” 

“O Benno, and with your wounded leg?” 

“It will stand the chance of being dressed 
there ; here we have nothing to look forward to 
but death.” 

“ But I shall never be able to mount to your 
back, Benno, even if willing to burden one so 
wounded.” 

“ Oh, yes you will, just think that it is the 
only chance for life, and home, and mother. 
Now rouse yourself, Baldwin, see, I am on my 
hands and knees waiting for you.” 

In a few minutes, though causing himself 
much suffering, Baldwin had mounted, and 
clasped his arms about his cousin’s neck, who 
with slow and painful effort dragged his burden 
toward the abbey, halting many times to rest. 


104 The Shepherd's Family. 

“ O Benno, this is too cruel in me to let 
you drag your wounded leg oyer the hard 
ground,” said Baldwin. 

“But think, cousin, I am saving myself as 
well as you. It is little enough to do in return 
for the kindness your father and mother have 
given me ; I was always welcome, and when at 
the castle forgot that I was an orphan. Cheer 
up, dear Baldwin, we will live to see the castle 
a blaze of light in rejoicings over our re- 
turn.” 

“I believe it,” cried Baldwin, joyously, “for 
there are lights in the abbey, we are almost 
there.” 

Slowly and painfully the balance of the jour- 
ney was made, and they reached a comfortable 
corner of the abbey and sank down exhausted, 
and in spite of their anxiety to call the atten- 
tion of a surgeon, fell asleep. 

How long they slept they knew not, nor did 
they know whether it were night or morning 
when the low, and it seemed to them joyous, 
barking of a dog awoke them. 

A short distance from them stood a well- 
grown boy of fourteen or thereabouts, and near 


105 


Returning Good for Evil. 

him a dog, both attentively observing the 
wounded lieutenants. 

“ Our time has come,” said Baldwin in a low 
tone, although he did not imagine the boy un- 
derstood, “he is a Russian, and will have no 
mercy.” 

“ I am no Russian, but a German,” said the 
voice, “though I have lived here for more than 
two years; who are you?” 

“We are officers, are wounded, and come 
from Saxony ; if you will help us, you shall be 
well rewarded.” 

“From Saxony!” cried the boy, joyfully, “I, 
too, came from Saxony, and will gladly help a 
countryman ; it seems that Cairo must have 
known you were Germans, he seemed so glad.” 

“Cairo!” exclaimed Benno, with tears of joy 
in his eyes. “I knew a dog named Cairo in 
dear old Saxony; he belonged to a shepherd 
on the estate of the Baron von Brune.” 

“It was my uncle Hans Baumann’s dog,” 
cried the boy, joyfully, “he helped me watch 
the baron’s sheep. Who are you ? ’* 

Baldwin turned almost sick from remorse as 
he saw in the one who had promised to help 


106 The Shepherd's Family. 

them the boy whom he had cut cruelly with 
his whip for defending his dog, and had helped 
to imprison in the lock-up. 

* Praise be to God for his goodness!” ex- 
claimed Benno. “I know you will help us. 
I am Benno von Cosman, and this is .” 

Baldwin grasped his hand and pressed it in 
token of silence, but Benno continued : 

“ This is my cousin, the young Baron von 
Brune, who, I am sure, sincerely repents of his 
treatment of you.” 

“ Let bygones be bygones, we have all need 
of forgiveness,” said Bernard, simply. “ I 
will do all I can to help you; but first, eat 
this food which I brought for my Uncle Bau- 
mann; but I cannot find him, though I have 
searched the abbey through.” 

“Your uncle, Herr Baumann, why would 
you look for him here ? ” said Baldwin, as both 
the young officers ate eagerly of the good food. 

“He was taken prisoner by the French; and 
we did not know but that on the march from 
Moscow he had been wounded by the Cossacks, 
and my aunt is so anxious that she begged me 
to follow and try to find him. He is not on the 


Returning Good for Evil. 107 

road nor here, so must have gone with them to 
France.” 

“And Frau Baumann and the children, where 
are they?” inquired Baldwin. 

“In our own cottage, which the French did 
not think worth the trouble of destroying. We 
all hid in a cave in the woods until the army 
had passed out of sight, and have plenty to eat 
and to wear, for we filled one of the grain pits 
in expectation of their coming. You shall 
share all we have, and have a good room in 
the cottage, of that I am sure.” 

“O! Bernard, you are returning good for 
evil; I shall never forget this lesson,” said 
Baldwin, humbly. 

“We have two horses outside, one of them 
being intended for Uncle Baumann; I will 
have them taken to a secluded spot back of the 
abbey, and Umaroff and I will come and carry 
you out and place you upon them,” saying 
which Bernard disappeared, commanding Cairo 
to remain with the wounded ones. 

In a few minutes he returned, and with the 
help of the strong and willing Umaroff, Bald- 
win was carried out and placed upon one of 


108 The Shepherd's Family . 

the gentle animals, and then they returned for 
Benno. 

“Now, Umaroff, hold Herr Baron Baldwin 
to his place, and you will add to your goodness 
if you will take off your coat and wrap it about 
him, as I am doing for Herr Benno; we shall 
be warm enough walking,” and suiting the 
action to the word he removed his coat and 
put it about the shivering Benno. 

“You brought a blanket to me once,” said 
he in a low tone, as Benno begged him not to 
rob himself of the garment. 

Umaroff had followed Bernard’s example, 
and they then set out for the cottage, which 
they reached weary and exhausted ; and Frau 
Baumann’s anxiety was somewhat lightened 
when she found that neither of the wounded 
men was her husband. 

The best that the cottage afforded was at 
their service, and a surgeon was soon on hand 
to dress their wounds, while Bernard was their 
faithful attendant night and day. 

In the meantime Napoleon had left the 
country, and it was safe to send a trusty mes- 
senger to Saxony to inform Baron von Brune 


Returning Good for Evil. 109 

of the place of sojourn of his son and Benno. 
That messenger was Umaroff, and he carried 
long and affectionate letters to the anxious 
parents at the castle, detailing every incident 
of their escape from death, and giving all the 
credit, under God’s kind guidance, to Bernard 
and Frau Baumann. 

One morning, a few days after the messenger 
departed, a ragged, foot- sore and miserable 
looking man opened the door of the Bau- 
mann cottage. For a moment there was 
silence, then exclamations of deep joy as wife 
and children clustered about the husband and 
father. 

No questions were asked until a hot bowl of 
soup, prepared for the wounded ones, was given 
him, and his face and hands bathed with fresh 
water as he sat in a comfortable chair by the 
hearth. 

Then he told them of Count Boutnieff, and 
of his disappearance, no doubt he being again 
taken prisoner by the French, of his surprise 
and anxiety upon his return from searching for 
food to find the wagon empty, and his setting 
out for Alexandrowka. On his way he was 


110 The Shepherd's Family. 

overtaken by French soldiers and carried back 
to Moscow, and when Napoleon and his army 
left there he was taken with them. 

The same night that Bernard was at the 
abbey he entered it, but after Bernard had 
made the tour of it in search of him, and in 
this way had missed him ; and there he had 
been ever since, waiting upon the wounded 
and dying, for he had not the heart to leave 
them. 

In time Umaroff returned, and with him a 
comfortable equipage in which the young lieu- 
tenants were to journey back to Saxony when 
able for the venture. 

Every comfort that could be crowded into it, 
the happy mother had placed there ; and better 
than all were the letters written to the young 
men and to Herr Baumann. 

With hearts filled with deep gratitude they 
had written to Herr Baumann to return to 
Saxony, and take again the place of shepherd 
upon the baron’s estate at a good salary, and 
with every advantage which the baron could 
bestow upon him and his family, among other 
things offering the chance for a good education 


Returning Good for Evil . Ill 

to Bernard. Money was sent with the letters, 
more than sufficient to pay all expenses of 
the removal. 

This was joyful news to the Raumann family. 
They were to leave desolation behind them and 
return to their beloved Saxony, and grateful 
thanks were offered for their innumerable bless- 
ings at the family altar that night for God’s 
goodness to them. 

With the happy return home in view, the 
young officers improved rapidly, and in a short 
time were able to bear the journey, and with 
glad hearts all set out for Saxony. 

Their sojourn in the humble home of the 
shepherd was not without its influence for 
good ; their hearts were turned to the Saviour, 
and they became earnest, useful Christians,, 
faithful workers in the Master’s vineyard. 





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